


Regulus

by sequ



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Implied Relationships, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:03:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5668645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequ/pseuds/sequ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Ushijima Wakatoshi is an undergrad law student and the only relation he has to Oikawa Tooru is a peace studies minor. That, and Oikawa may have accidentally hit Ushijima with Iwaizumi’s truck.</p>
<p>(Alien!Ushijima AU, because Oikawa loves aliens and I'm trash.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regulus

_If you ask Oikawa about the night he first met Ushijima Wakatoshi, he’ll tell you: everything happened like a blur._  

 

 

“Holy SHIT—“

The words spew out reflexively as Oikawa’s foot slams down and hands frantically whip to the right, clutching the wheel. Unfortunately, his mouth is always faster to retaliate than anything else.

The screeching of wheels is drowned out by the sound of the thud, and even if he didn’t hear it, he could _feel_ it reverberating through the metal. A wave of shock, horror, and regret hit him all at once.

He just hit someone. With _Iwaizumi’s_ truck.

He is so dead.

(Priorities were never Oikawa’s strong point.)

He has enough sense in his panic to open the door and fumble out to check on the body, praying to any god that he had not just committed homicide. He is hesitant, peering around the front. It is hard to see with only the headlights illuminating the dark parking lot, and truthfully half of him hopes he had gone insane and imagined the whole thing. But there it is.

The body lays limp on the concrete, just a foot away from the truck. It is a man, large in frame, probably around the same age as Oikawa, but as far as he can see, there is no blood and the body doesn’t look mutilated. Oikawa kneels down and activates his phone light to examine the scene and _shit_. The guy isn’t breathing.

What should he do? Try to resuscitate him? No, no. Oikawa is not a med student and moving a comatose body that just got hit by a moving piece of metal probably isn’t the best of ideas.

Get back in the truck and play off the large dent in the front as a friendly hug with a pole? Out of the question. He’d die himself from guilt if tomorrow’s news talks about a college student who was killed by _hit and run_.

Call Iwa-chan? That was the worst idea.

Wait, in _this_ kind of emergency he should be calling the cops, even if it means his youthful university life would come to an end.

With shaky hands, he manages to input his phone password after four tries. He is then so focused on the task of dialing three simple numbers that when a hand grips his arm, his entire **body** screams.

“Don’t…” The word is strangled and weak, but repeated with more power. “Don’t call.. th..e… cops.”

Oikawa’s heart is racing—so fast that he could have won a derby at that speed.

“Y-you!! You’re alive!? I mean—holy shit, are you _okay_?”

“Take a guess…”

The voice is still weak, but each progressing word seems to carry more vigor than the last. Oikawa doesn’t feel relief, but instead some unreasonable irritation.

“This is no time for sarcasm and you _need_ to go to the hospital!”

The man, who had just been unconscious and not breathing moments ago, groans and shifts on the ground before sitting upright, using Oikawa’s arm as leverage. Oikawa audibly gasps, if not at the man’s actions—how is he moving?—then at the sheer force of the hand gripping at his arm. It hurt, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

“It’s not serious,” the man lies. Or at least, it _had_ to be a lie. There is no way getting hit by a truck is not serious.

Oikawa is incredulous, but what could he do? It would be rude of him to dismiss the will of the person he just hit with a truck. Not that hitting a person with a truck isn’t rude, but...

He sighs, “at least, let me take you to see a friend of mine. He studies sport medicine, so I’m sure he could examine you to make sure you’re not like, internally bleeding… or something…” He feels the trembling in his body begin to fade. A responsive person is a good sign at the least.

“No, it would be best—“

“It would be **best** for you to see a doctor, get it?”

Silence.

In those moments, for the first time that night, Oikawa looks at his victim’s face—he didn’t even realize how he was unconsciously avoiding it.

Not many of his features are visible, but if nothing else, the man’s face is sculpted finely by the harsh shadows complementing the truck’s headlights. Honestly, he is kind of…

“Alright,” the man concedes, pulling Oikawa out of his observations. “I’ll go with you.”

“Good, then, let me help you into the truck.” Oikawa stands and offers his other arm, carefully leading the man to the passenger seat. His phone is in hand again and he wills himself to make a call at this late hour.

 

  

 

It is nearly 10 pm when they arrive at the door of apartment 405, with the man’s arm slung over Oikawa’s shoulder for stability. The man isn’t particularly heavy, but Oikawa could feel the weight, especially after scaling those three flights of stairs.

They knock on the door and it only takes five seconds before it flies open and—

“Yo!! Oh boy, you weren’t kidding about hitting someone, I thought you might have been pranking us.” Bokuto was always somewhat obnoxious, but somehow that was his charm.

“I may prank you, but I’d never prank Akaashi.” Oikawa retorts as Bokuto moves to let them inside.

“So why not go to the hospital?” Bokuto questions. He shuts the door behind them and locks it.

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t reply to anything I asked on the way here. He won’t even tell me his name!” He has no right to complain, but Oikawa is unreasonable. He helps the man to the couch. “He hasn’t talked once since we got into the truck—“

“Ushijima.”

“What?” Oikawa asks, and Bokuto raises a brow.

“My name. Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

“So _now_ you decide to talk again?” Oikawa huffs.

“You’re incessant talking was…bothersome. I thought you might stop if I didn’t respond but…”

“You—“ Oikawa is cut off by Bokuto’s rumble of laughter, “it’s NOT funny!”

Oikawa glowers. How _dare_ he. Here he was, worried that the guy, “Ushijima,” was going to croak on the drive over, and this is what he gets. He can’t help if all his nerves are frazzled and his mouth is the only thing still functioning properly.

“Ah, you’re here.” All three turn to look at Akaashi as he enters the living room holding a box most likely filled with medical supplies. He walks over to the couch and sets the box on the coffee table before opening it. “Oikawa, help take off his shirt.” Leave it to Akaashi to get straight to the point.

He does as Akaashi requests, although thoughtlessly until he notices Ushijima is gritting his teeth. His hands then move more carefully as he helps raise the shirt above Ushijima’s head, revealing the damage.

Bokuto whistles from behind them. “Damn, that’s one sick bruise.”

“Just how _fast_ were you going, Oikawa?” Akaashi turns at him with the most accusatory look.

Oikawa raises his hands in protest, “I wasn’t going fast, I will still in the parking lot! He appeared out of nowhere.” _He thinks so at least._

Akaashi moves in closer and prods the bruised ribcage, and Ushijima’s entire body convulses.

“I’m not an expert, but… I’m pretty sure you broke some of his ribs.” Akaashi shakes his head and motions at Bokuto, “Go get some ice and ibuprofen.” He shifts back and examines Ushijima’s arms, then his legs, and his head lastly. “Only a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing as serious as the ribs. Unfortunately, I can’t do much for that. You should get an x-ray.”

“Well… it’s better than being dead?” Oikawa offers and Ushijima just _looks_ at him.

“I’ll be fine,” Ushijima states firmly and reaches for his shirt that had been tossed to the armrest.

Akaashi turns to look at Oikawa who just shakes his head, “I think he also hit his head or something.”

“If you’re worried about the medical bill, just sue Oikawa,” Bokuto chimes in as he enters the room with medicine, a cup of water, and an ice pack.

The face Oikawa makes at the suggestion erupts another laughter from Bokuto. But he couldn’t argue because Ushijima had every right to sue him. His driving track record was going to shit this month. And Oikawa still had that huge dent in Iwazumi’s truck to worry about as well.

Ushijima takes the medicine and places the ice on his left rib. “That will be unnecessary, I will be perfectly fine soon.”

They stare at him until Akaashi breaks the silence, “You’re right. He _must have_ hit his head, I’ll check for signs of a concussion in the morning.” He stands and grabs his medical box before heading back to his own room. He gives Oikawa a final glance, “both of you can stay here for tonight. Come get me if you need anything.”

“I got practice in the morning, so I’ll be off to bed too,” Bokuto adds. “The kitchen is that way,” he points behind himself, “so help yourself if you need anything.” And he quickly follows behind, leaving the two to their own.

The silence from the ride over returns and Oikawa wants to yell just for Bokuto and Akaashi to come running back and get rid of this awkward tension. He fidgets and entertains himself by playing with the ends of his sweater. Eventually he opens his mouth, but is cut off before he could even speak.

“I shall rest,” Ushijima announces as he lowers his body into a comfortable enough position.

“Ah, that is probably a good idea,” Oikawa nods and shifts himself to lean against the edge of the couch. Looks like he’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight. “You should really see a doctor, I can take you in the morning.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’re crazy,” Oikawa finally confesses.

Ushijima doesn’t reply, so Oikawa busies himself with his phone. He should probably text Iwazumi to let him know he wasn’t coming home tonight.

_I’m staying at a friend’s tonight._

Not even ten seconds later, a reply.

_You should have told me sooner stupid, I left your portion of dinner out._

_My bad. Put it in the fridge, I’ll eat it tomorrow~_

_Good night, don’t cause too much trouble for others._

He had no idea. Oikawa feels a little guilty.

 _Night night, Iwa-chan!_ （●´∀｀）ノ♡

Oikawa closes his message app and sets the phone down. With nothing better to do, Oikawa thinks. He thinks about the day’s events and the strange man he had hit. He thinks about what Iwa-chan had made for dinner. He thinks about how tomorrow Iwa-chan was going to rip him a new one. And, before he slips into a surprisingly peaceful slumber, he thinks about how the only sound he could hear was his own breathing in the silent room.

  

 

 

In the morning, Ushijima is gone, but the dent in Iwaizumi’s truck isn’t.

 

**Author's Note:**

> "Regulus is the Lion’s Heart" aka the brightest star in the Leo constellation and guess who is a Leo? (thanks for the idea yifi)
> 
> Also I'm sorry, only half of this is beta'd and I can honestly say it's been 5 years since I last wrote any kind of story this in depth. I hope you enjoyed nontheless and let me know what you think or if I messed up any grammar.


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